I hear by demand proof of all the above mentioned stories in either Video or sworn in testimonial by 3 military buddy's or more.

I'm still in touch with a few guys from down there. I could also relate the story of when we went into a Panamanian McDonalds and all tried to order our food in "Sweedish Chef" Sweedish. ("Sheegan jourken mi nourgen... fur shourgan bork bork.") Or how I managed to convince the random reservists that would occupy spare space in the barracks, that the geckos were poisonous.

The more I jot these down, the more I realize I should have stayed in. You just can't do this kind of **** in the "real world" and not get in trouble. The craziest thing I've ever done in a "real job" was turn my cubicle into a fortress with spare whiteboards. (I have pics of that, by the way, since it happened a year ago.)

Banned for failing to live up to the standards he expected of others and wasting more time on calling out forum military members' credentials than he spent in his own military career.

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Originally Posted by Phrost

Which is essentially meaningless if you take out all the irrelevant hyperbole that Mr. Bryan Lee has inserted.

I was in the Army for 7 years. In those 7 years I had the opportunity to get my hands on and train with various weapon systems and would do so because I was in the Army and they were awesome.

When I was stationed in Panama we got to shoot live rounds out of our M-203's off of boats into the canal. We'd break out the MK-19 every now and then and *thump* *thump* *thump* the thing down range, which was extremely fun. My Platoon SGT even tried to dual wield M-60's like Rambo and found it hard despite being 6'2ish and 230lbs.

I once threw apples out of a blackhawk at houses (huts) in the middle of nowhere in Central America, because I was a little shithead. As a PFC I got my ass chewed out for calling an off color running cadence during company PT about going into a church and mowing everyone down with an Uzi.

I tried to convince the OIC of our OPFOR team to let us tie the commander of the Puerto Rican National Guard unit onto the hood of our HMMWV after we successfully "invaded" their outpost using my plan of sending a team up the front entrance pretending to be unaffiliated with the exercise. I got to wear cut-off BDU shorts and a boonie cap on that mission, and the cuna grass and mosquitos ate me the **** up but I had a blast.

In AIT, for some reason our company commander had us do a full on D-Day style beach assault in which my 145lb ass volunteered to carry the M-60 for the duration of the exercise. Why a POL platoon had to do an amphibious assuault didn't occur to me because I was too busy enjoying the **** out of myself. Later in that exercise some people in the platoon fucked up something and we all got smoked with rifle PT. Fifteen or so minutes into it my arms gave out and the 60 came crashing straight down on my kevlar (helmet).

I spent 5 days sleeping in the back of a cargo hummer with no change of clothes or even a shaving kit, in the high country of Panama, freezing my ass off.

I was a member of the obstacle course competition team for "Green Hell" on Ft. Davis (I think it was Davis, not the one on the other side of the canal), but mostly since I was light and a portion of the course you had to carry one of the men on a litter while running in waist-deep, corral-infested ocean, around a freaking island. The course also featured a huge (30'?) rope net you had to climb, slippery with sea spray and with jagged corral at the bottom to cushion you should you fall.

I got SCUBA certified by a salty old, retired SF guy and then co-opted two of my buddies to swim out into the ocean to Drake Island because supposedly there was pirate treasure buried there. All we got were lacerations and bruises as the waves beat you into the rocky sides of the crab-infested island. I put a camera into a plastic bag and swam it one-armed and somewhere I think I've got a pic or two from that (but most likely they didn't survive all the subsequent moves.)

While tasked out on a humanitarian mission to provide fuel to support the South Carolina National Guard who were building a school in a poor area of the interior, the two guys there from the SF battalion (some reserve SF unit... I don't remember, 20 SFG or something), we got tired of their stupid **** and "invaded" our own base with MRE bombs and firecrackers at 5AM on the day they were set to leave. I've never seen fat old men run around so fast half-dressed, nor would I ever want to repeat the experience.

I scored 200 (max) on my promotion board, in part, because I started a rumor that the battalion's Sergeant Major only gave out 200's to females.

I once got hit in the head by a Chinook.

I rode a horse through an open air cantina on the beach while on a chaplain-organized company event.

For one field exercise, most of my battalion got "deployed" to Key West.

Thinking back, if I had actually been at run-of-the mill duty stations doing run-of-the-mill 77F ****, I probably would have reclassed the minute I had an opportunity.

But I didn't, because everything was just fucking awesome. So blow me. My life rules.

Banned for failing to live up to the standards he expected of others and wasting more time on calling out forum military members' credentials than he spent in his own military career.

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Originally Posted by Phrost

I'm still in touch with a few guys from down there. I could also relate the story of when we went into a Panamanian McDonalds and all tried to order our food in "Sweedish Chef" Sweedish. ("Sheegan jourken mi nourgen... fur shourgan bork bork.") Or how I managed to convince the random reservists that would occupy spare space in the barracks, that the geckos were poisonous.

The more I jot these down, the more I realize I should have stayed in. You just can't do this kind of **** in the "real world" and not get in trouble. The craziest thing I've ever done in a "real job" was turn my cubicle into a fortress with spare whiteboards. (I have pics of that, by the way, since it happened a year ago.)

I once did a 20k ruck march in full gear while carrying my M203 in under 2 hours. Conversely, I passed out and fell flat on my face while doing the 2 mile run for my first PT test in Panama.

I got extremely drunk with three other friends and the cab driver on Cerveza Atlas (cheap beer) and somehow ended up at a 7-11 in Panama City, Panama to get a Slurpee. To this day I don't know why there was a 7-11 in Panama and I could never find it again. *Twilight Zone Music*

In PLDC I got in trouble for "sarcasm" and had to write a paper on the topic for my instructor. The paper, entitled (something to the effect of): "Let's All Do Our Part to Stop Sarcasm", called for the formation of an organization named NOSARC (Nationals or Something Against Retributive Comments) to stamp out the menace of sarcasm. After reading it aloud in class I was instructed to redo it.

Also in PLDC I took over command from an ineffectual female who was supposed to be leading the defense of our CP with a near-mutiny and used an insurgent-style approach of leaving "the fat guy" in the bunker while having everyone else hide in the woods and then ambush the confused-as-hell OPFOR as they stood around wondering what the hell was going on. And it worked.

I was once told by an Army Chaplain, in full sincerity, that I should go to Russia because I didn't believe in god.

I gained 10 lbs at NTC on a diet of 6 MRE's a day out of sheer boredom and then lost most of it on the detail to pack all the damn vehicles back onto rail cars.

I'm still in touch with a few guys from down there. I could also relate the story of when we went into a Panamanian McDonalds and all tried to order our food in "Sweedish Chef" Sweedish. ("Sheegan jourken mi nourgen... fur shourgan bork bork.") Or how I managed to convince the random reservists that would occupy spare space in the barracks, that the geckos were poisonous.

The more I jot these down, the more I realize I should have stayed in. You just can't do this kind of **** in the "real world" and not get in trouble. The craziest thing I've ever done in a "real job" was turn my cubicle into a fortress with spare whiteboards. (I have pics of that, by the way, since it happened a year ago.)

I did a variant of the "Swedish Chef" thing in Bosnia. We had Swedes running the chow hall at NORDPOL and I was friends with their NCOIC. So as I was getting dinner, I popped off with "Hey Magnus, sheegan blurken flurken bork-bork-bork!". He knew exactly what I was talking about. FML. :eusa_sile

I did a variant of the "Swedish Chef" thing in Bosnia. We had Swedes running the chow hall at NORDPOL and I was friends with their NCOIC. So as I was getting dinner, I popped off with "Hey Magnus, sheegan blurken flurken bork-bork-bork!". He knew exactly what I was talking about. FML. :eusa_sile

That's priceless.

You know, I grew up watching M*A*S*H and thinking that's what the Army was really like, only to sign up right after I turned 18 and find out quickly that that's what the Army was really like.